Consciousness crept back to Irene like an unwelcome house guest. Her brain registered warmth and comfort first, followed by the distinct sensation that this definitely wasn’t her bed. Then reality hit her like a bucket of ice water.
Oh. My. God.
She was curled up against Adam’s wheelchair, using his arm as an impromptu pillow. At some point during the night, she’d apparently decided his arm made the perfect headrest. The solid muscle beneath her cheek was way too comfortable for her peace of mind.
Kill me now, she thought, face burning. But her traitorous eyes couldn’t help drinking in his sleeping face. She’d seen it a thousand times during treatments, but never this close, never this unguarded. Strong brows, deep–set eyes, that aristocratic nose, and lips that… Nope, not going there. But seriously, his skin was annoyingly flawless up close. What kind of next–level skincare routine did this man have? It was just unfair.
Their faces were close enough that she could count his eyelashes not that she was counting, obviously. His breath fanned softly against her cheek, and something fluttered in her stomach that she absolutely refused to acknowledge.
Then those dark eyes fluttered open.
Time seemed to freeze as their gazes locked. For one endless moment, they just stared at each other, caught in that strange space between sleep and wakefulness. His pupils dilated as awareness returned, and Irene could have sworn his breath hitched for just a second.
She jerked upright like she’d been electrocuted, suddenly fascinated by smoothing out her wrinkled clothes. Her cheeks felt hot enough to fry an egg. Why do I feel like a teenager caught making out on the couch?
“Hssss…” Adam’s sharp intake of breath drew her attention back. He was flexing his arm, the one she’d commandeered as her personal pillow – his face tight with discomfort.
Her doctor’s instincts kicked in, shoving her embarrassment to the back burner. “Here, let me check that.” She moved closer, slipping into professional mode like a comfortable old coat. Her fingers pressed methodically along his arm. “Feel this? And here?”
Adam nodded, maintaining his CEO poker face, but she caught the slight clench in his jaw when she hit a tender spot. The gentle pressure of her fingers sent an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his arm – nothing like his usual medical examinations. Her face was close enough that he caught the subtle scent of her shampoo, making it surprisingly difficult to keep his thoughts clinical!
“Just temporary nerve compression,” she explained, her movements precise and efficient. While she was at it, she did a quick check of his legs. “Everything else looks stable. That awkward position didn’t do any damage.”
Her hands might have been steady, but she was hyperaware of his intense gaze following her every move. The air felt thik enough to cut with a scalpel.
Meanwhile, three tiny faces were pressed against the barely–open door, watching the scene unfold with undisguised glee.
“They’re so close!” Lily whispered, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Shhh!” Alex’s urgent hiss could have won an Oscar for dramatic timing. “They’ll hear us!”
Lucas’s grin threatened to split his face in half. “Mission accomplished!” he mouthed silently.
Footsteps approaching sent them scrambling away toward the dining room like tiny ninjas, settling into their seats with expressions of angelic innocence that wouldn’t have fooled a blind man.
Back in the theater, Irene stepped away from Adam like he’d suddenly burst into flames. “Get some gentle stretching in,” she said,
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fidgeting with her already–smooth clothes. “And after breakfast, you need to do some proper mobility work that position couldn’t have been great for your back either.”
She made a beeline for the doof, her li
doing gymnastics in her chest. When the handle finally turned with a satisfying click, she
could have kissed it out of sheer relief.
They found Joseph already holding court at the dining table, sipping his morning tea with the air of someone who knew exactly what was going on but was too amused to mention it. His eyes twinkled with barely suppressed mischief as they entered.
“Well, well, look who finally decided to join us for breakfast,” he commented with innocent concern that wouldn’t have fooled a five-
year–old. “I was starting to wonder would show up.”
Thomas bustled around the table like an overenthusiastic wedding planner, laying out what looked like a spread worthy of a five- star restaurant. “Fresh from next door’s chef!” he announced, practically glowing with pride. “Still hot and everything!”
Adam’s expression darkened faster than storm clouds rolling in. “And where exactly were you last night?” His voice cut through the morning air like an arctic blast. “Weren’t you supposed to come get me?”
Thomas’s enthusiasm wilted faster than week–old flowers. “Well… the kids said you’d be watching until late, told me to wait outside…” He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “And I might have… sort of.. accidentally fallen asleep?”
Irene zeroed in on her suspiciously angelic–looking children. She stalked over to their seats, pinching Lucas’s left cheek with one hand and Alex’s right cheek with the other as she leaned down.
Alright, you little masterminds,” she narrowed her eyes. “Did you deliberately lock us in there last night? The whole night?”
“Moooom,” Alex protested through his squished cheek, “we fell asleep! We didn’t know anything!”
If Thomas hadn’t spilled the beans about being told to wait outside, she might have bought their innocent act. But she knew her tiny troublemakers too well those cherubic faces hid minds that could give evil geniuses a run for their money.
“Whether you knew or not, whether it was on purpose or not,” she kept her voice stern but measured, “this cannot happen again, of
else…”
The threat hung unfinished as Thomas whisked Adam away to freshen up, still wearing that guilty puppy expression.
Back in his own dining room, Adam mechanically scrolled through financial news on his tablet while picking at his doctor- prescribed breakfast. The food was technically perfect – his chef had followed Irene’s instructions to the letter – but somehow it felt. as bland as cardboard. After the warmth of breakfast next door, his own immaculate dining room felt about as welcoming as a museum after hours.
His brooding was interrupted by Thomas opening the door. “Sir? You have a visitor.”
A young woman glided in, the very picture of polished elegance. Her presence seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room.
Adam’s fingers tightened imperceptibly on his tablet. Whatever peace the morning had brought evaporated like mist in the summer sun, replaced by something far colder.
His visitor smiled warmly. “Good morning, Adam. It’s been too long
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Genius Kids‘ Scheme: Claiming Daddy’s Billionaire Empre
Chapter 57
